


Soup and Forehead Kisses

by DramamineOnTopOfMe



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Forehead Kisses, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pneumonia, Sickfic, Teasing, We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramamineOnTopOfMe/pseuds/DramamineOnTopOfMe
Summary: Eddie's fucking sick. Can barely stand, has the shakes, sleep all day kinda sick.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 29
Kudos: 276





	Soup and Forehead Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a part of my first kiss series but I didn't think a real first kiss was good for the prompt. So it's just a random fic I have lying around now.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Eddie?” Carla frowns while shouldering Chris’s bag. He waves her off, his hand limply flailing in the air. 

“I’ll be fine Carla, don’t worry. It’s better to have him away from me so he doesn’t get sick. I’ll text you tomorrow with the plan.” She nods stiffly, sighing for good measure. He knows she cares, knows she wants to stay and help, but he can’t afford for Chris to get sick too. That means more days at home and he’s already going to have trouble paying all the bills this month. 

Chris frowns from his spot at the door, “Daddy, are you going to be okay?” Eddie hums, waving them off again. 

“Yeah, mijo, I’ll be okay. Go have fun with Carla, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He coughs roughly. Eddie’s ribs scream at him, there’s not enough space inside for his lungs to expand. He’s rubbed his throat raw with his hacking and his nose isn’t much better. Right before he called Carla, Chris put some Vicks’ under his nose in hopes of helping the redness that settled there. 

Eddie hears the door close softly. He should get up soon to lock it before inevitably taking a nap, but his whole body hurts. He’s fucking sick, can barely stand, has the shakes, sleep all day kinda sick. If he has to pinpoint it, he thinks it’s the car crash victim from a week ago. The guy was bleeding out on the pavement and could barely breathe. Apparently, he was already on his way to the hospital to get checked out for pneumonia. 

Soon enough, Eddie drifts off. He forgets all about the door as he turning to his side to get some air into his lungs. 

~~

Eddie wakes to a knock on the door, it’s quick, then the door opens. “Who’s-” 

“I swear to god Eddie, if you die on me, I’ll bring you back just so I can kill you again. Why didn’t you lock the door? Are you trying to get robbed?” 

“Buck,” Eddie sighs and rubs his face. His nose hurts ever more than when he fell asleep if he could even call it that. It was more like a pseudo-sleep where he was half cognizant but didn’t have noise around him to focus on. “Why are you here?” He coughs again. The time on his phone says 12:35 pm, Buck should be in the middle of his shift. “You’re supposed to be at work.” 

Buck waves him off, walking around the kitchen as if he owns it. Eddie peaks over the back of the couch, watching as Buck pulls the ingredients for soup out. “Bobby gave me the rest of the day off to take care of you. Carla called me, she’s worried. So I talked to Bobby, he said to call if you went to the hospital.” 

“You-” Eddie coughs again, his throat screams at him. “You’re going to get sick, man.”

Buck scoffs, “Yeah yeah, and like I said, if you die, I’ll bring you back just to beat your ass.” He grabs the can opener from the drawer next to the dishwasher. “I’m making you soup, should be ready in about ten minutes. Do you think you can sit up?” He continues to move through the kitchen like it’s his own. Eddie’s surprised by the feeling that settles in his gut. It’s a mixture of contentment and embarrassment. How could he not notice that Buck’s here enough to know where everything is? But,  _ Buck knows where everything is in his kitchen.  _

“I can sit up. You don’t have to stay, I’ll be fine.” Eddie moves slowly, his legs scream in protest and his back cracks. He must let out a noise because Buck’s leaning down over the couch in a second. “I’m fine.” His hand comes up in a feeble attempt to push his friend away. Another cough wracks his body. 

“Dude, you sound like you’re about to die.” Buck reaches around, his arm supporting Eddie’s shoulders as he sits up. All of the blood rushes away from his head, and he sees spots. Eddie pus an arm out, grasping for Buck. “Dizzy? Have you eaten anything today Eds?” Eddie shakes his head. 

Buck helps him sit up, mumbling about how he’s a child. “‘M not a child,” Eddie grumbles. There’s a pat on his arm, along with some more mumbling. His ears hurt and they’re ringing loudly. 

“Can you hear me?” Buck’s voice is right next to him suddenly, making him jump. 

“I can now.” He jerks away, holding his head. 

“I think you caught pneumonia from that patient the other day.” The volume of his voice changes rapidly, “I’m going to finish your soup. Keep sitting up, it’ll help drain your head.” 

Eddie huffs, dipping his head and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, “I’m an EMT, I know how to take care of myself.” His head keeps throbbing, and the ringing doesn’t stop. Buck counters with something, but now he’s too far away to hear more than muffled noises. 

Eddie tips his head back, catching what he hopes is the tail end of Buck’s rant, “How do you have a son when you can’t even take care of yourself when you’re sick, man?” 

“Don’t bring Chris into this, are you calling me a bad dad?” 

“No!” Eddie rolls his head to the side just in time to see Buck come around the back of the couch with a bowl of soup. “You’re not a bad dad, and Chris is a great kid. But sometimes I don’t understand how you can be a dad when you don’t even take care of yourself.” Buck puts a kitchen towel over his lap, “Now eat your soup. It’ll make you feel better.” 

“Will it-” Eddie gasps, suddenly losing his breath. He coughs a few times, jagged pain ramming around in his chest. “Ugh,” Eddie frowns, “Will it fix everything?” He closes his eyes for a few seconds, then opens them to see Buck looking right at him. 

His friend runs a hand over his sweaty forehead, pushing his hair back, “No, but that’s what I’m here for. I’m going to make sure you don’t die.” Then there are a couple of taps on his leg, “Eat your damn soup, then you can take another nap, Eds.” 

He doesn’t have it in him to fight, so Eddie takes the bowl from the coffee table and begins to slurp it down. Buck continues to lecture him about taking care of himself, only stopping occasionally because Eddie side-eyes him. 

It continues long after he’s finished the soup. His eyes are barely staying open, he’s falling asleep sitting up. His nose feels a bit better, and he can finally breathe. Buck said something earlier about the steam helping his sinuses, but he’s not in the mood to feed into his friend’s ego. 

“Bobby said that if I want to take you to the ER, I should. He’d meet us there.” 

“Buck, I’m not dying. It’s just a little virus.” 

“Yeah, a little virus that kills 50,000 people a year! I don’t want you to be one of those people!” Eddie rolls his eyes, sighing. He shuts them again, setting his head on the back of the couch. Buck tuts at him though, “Lay down, idiot. You’re done with your soup, you can take a nap.” He’s being dramatic, but that’s what Buck’s about. He’s always been one for dramatics, and Eddie knows that it’s easier to let him go. So he does, he lets Buck take care of him. 

“Fine, fine, are you staying here or are you leaving?” Eddie coughs for what seems like the millionth time. 

“I’ll stay, probably clean up a bit around here,” He smiles softly while standing from the couch. Eddie flops over, basically throwing his body down. He thinks Buck chuckles at him, but he doesn’t know for sure because his ears are plugged again. 

He’s a bit restless, not able to find a comfortable position that lets him breathe. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, he lands on his back with his head cramped up on the arm. It’s not the best, but at least he can breathe again. 

Eddie dozes soon after that, but again, it’s somewhere between REM sleep and being awake. He hears Buck move around sometimes, but only when he’s close enough to the couch. He’s humming something low, Eddie can’t tell what it is. 

He finally settles into the couch, his shoulders relaxing only slightly into it. He feels something fall over his hips but doesn’t open his eyes. Hands tuck the blanket under his legs, pull it up to his chest. Buck’s hand caresses his cheek softly before moving more hair out of his face. Eddie barely feels it, thinks he’s dreaming it. But then he hears Buck mumble “I love you, Eds. Feel better.”

Buck rubs his cheekbone with the pad of his finger. Then, there’s a featherlight kiss pressing into his forehead. 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: 
> 
> Classic sickfic: Eddie's fucking sick, can barely stand, has the shakes, sleep all day kinda sick. He gives Chris over to Carla for the day, in an attempt to save his son from the virus. Although he doesn't anticipate Buck coming over, mid-shift, saying something along the lines of, "Eddie if you die on me, so help me, I'll bring you back just so I can kill you again." And Buck's always been one for dramatics, so Eddie lets him go, lets him take care of him.


End file.
